


The Lies We Believe

by SoU2019



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Bottom Edward, Dom/sub Undertones, Ed is an adult, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Smut, SoUarchive, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:53:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24385381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoU2019/pseuds/SoU2019
Summary: Al laughed at him. A lot. Enough that the line crackled as Al tried to breathe. Ed scowled into the phone.“Oh Brother,” Al said. “You know what the General does to you! You won’t even make it to bed without losing your bet.”
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Comments: 22
Kudos: 363





	The Lies We Believe

**Author's Note:**

> Imagine me sitting up in bed at two am wearing what is essentially a frilly satin shower cap straight out of some Jane Austen novel, and cursing at my laptop for my complete lack of knowledge about dams. The cap is to protect my hair from frizz, and my long suffering laptop is for half-assed research...The cap is probably why I am single.
> 
> Anyways this is my way of saying that I don’t know shit about dams, and so I need you to get all the way off my back about the actual logistics of this situation. I watched a few documentaries, and looked at wiki pictures, but I don’t get paid to do this so I made it up. I also know nothing about military operations, as the closest that I have come to the army is that one guy I met in a dungeon...but that is neither here nor there. Some elements have been shamelessly borrowed from various fics, but I will shout out Batsutousai's From the Worst of Times because I borrowed their idea about soul location alchemy.
> 
> This isn’t Beta read, and I haven’t written anything in literally 4 years, so excuse any rust. If this work has been orphaned, fear not, I will still be reading the comments, and believe me, I appreciate every single one.

"And then the fucker had the balls to fucking turn to me and say-" 

Mustang's lip twitched.

Edward's eyes narrowed as he glared at the man seated behind the large wooden desk. "What's so funny, Asshole?"

"Whatever do you mean, Fullmetal?" General Mustang asked.

"You know exactly what I mean! What're you laughing at?"

Mustang widened his eyes and molded his face into a perfect imitation of innocence, but Ed knew better.

"I really do not know what you-"

"Shuddup! You lying bastard! Fucking tell me what's so funny or I'll tell Hawkeye about last Thursday."

"Ah." Mustang had the decency to look a little bit panicked before leaning back in his office chair, looking through the open office door and calling out "How many did you count, Havoc?"

"57" A defeated sounding Havoc called back.

Ed glared. 

"Oh would you look at the time I must-"

Ed's glare turned more into a threat as he leaned over the desk, his knuckles white where they gripped the edge. "Fucking tell me!" 

Mustang's eyes practically glittered as he looked towards the doorway and called out "58!"

"NO!" A chair scraped across the floor and Havoc stomped into the office. "Those don't count! He wasn't telling the story anymore!"

Ed spun around and in one swift movement caught Havoc's wrist and twisted it behind his back. 

"OW! Let me go Boss!"

"Not until you tell me what the fuck the bastard is going on about." He twisted the arm a little bit more and Havoc winced.

“OKAY! Okay!” Havoc hissed “Lemme go!”

Ed loosened his grip and Havoc quickly stepped back while shaking some feeling back into his abused appendage “Wow Boss your grip has really improved.” He said as he looked at Ed’s newest arm with apprehension.

Ed grinned. It had taken him a year to regain the use of his right arm, but there had been some complications with the pieces of metal that had remained embedded in his shoulder and it had prevented him from achieving full strength in his hands. It had taken years of physical therapy and a handful of surgeries, but finally the results were showing.

“Okay, well you see...The General made a comment yesterday about how your absence had improved the ‘workplace vernacular’ by not having a single ‘crude exclamation’ made during the whole day. When you called to say that you’d be in this morning, the General bet me that you’d curse 50 times while giving him your verbal report. I said that you didn’t swear that much and that you would only swear 30 times. Clearly I was wrong.”

Ed stared at both of them. Mustang had the decency to look vaguely admonished, while Havoc was trying to not melt into the floor. “The hell is wrong with the both of you!? Honestly this is why nothing ever gets done round here! I’m sure that there is loads of crap that both of you need to do before you start layin on me for this bullshit!” Ed’s glare focused on Mustang. “Sides, what's it matter to you?”

The General sat up straighter. “It doesn’t bother me, despite the fact that I should be reprimanding you, but I fear that trying to control your tongue would take up far too much of my resources, and in the end you would learn nothing because you are simply incapable of expressing yourself without cursing.” Mustang picked up a pen and began twirling it.

On a normal day Ed would have gotten distracted by Mustang’s finger gymnastics because the man had remarkably nice hands, despite the scarring from Bradley’s swords. Today however, Mustang had hidden a challenge in that previous statement and Ed’s spidey-sense had picked up on it. A trap. An  _ obvious  _ trap, but Ed had never backed down from a challenge, and he wasn’t about to go backing down from them now.

“First of all, fuck off, and secondly; I do whatever the fuck I want to do. I say whatever the hell I want because I can, and I could stop whenever I wanted.”

Havoc and Mustang looked at each other and laughed.

Ed watched them with growing resolve. “Keep laughing assholes. I’ll prove it! Tomorrow we are going to that stupid thing in Atossa right?” 

“Yep” Said Havoc cheerfully.

Ed rolled his eyes “Great. So we are all gonna be stuck together for three days, so you’ll be able watch me prove you wrong.”

Havoc snorted “No offence Boss, but I bet you wouldn’t even last a day.”

“I must agree. I strongly doubt you’d make it past the first 24 hours.” Mustang said with an arched eyebrow. He looked like a smug and overly pampered cat who had just been served his third bowl of cream. It made Ed see red.

“I bet that you can’t go a full 48 hours without swearing Fullmetal.” Roy said in his stupid smarmy voice.

Ed scoffed. “I can  _ SO _ do 48 hours. I can do anything I set my mind to.”

“I don’t doubt that you can do  _ most _ things you set your mind to; however, habits are harder to break and I don’t think that even you could manage to cut out half of your vocabulary overnight.”

“HALF?! What the fuck do you mean by  _ HALF _ !?”

Mustang gave an uninterested shrug. “I meant exactly what I said.”

“All right Bastard. I bet you that, starting tomorrow on the train platform, I can totally go through the whole trip without swearing.”

“Alright.” Mustang said. “But, when you inevitably swear, I want to have your word that from this day onward you will hand in a perfectly typed report, so that I never have to read your chicken scratch writing ever again.”

“HA! Over my dead body. When _ I _ win the bet, I want to be able to use one of your secretaries to write up my reports while I dictate them. I’m sick and tired of having to write up reports that you never read. It’s not like they’re ever doin anything important, so I dunno why you’re so stingy about sharing them. I’ll borrow one of them after every mission. It might cut into their ‘oogling your ass time’ but you’ll have to manage.”

“Lark and Rigault are both highly skilled professionals whose--”

“Yeah, Yeah I know.” Ed interrupted. “But it’s not like you couldn’t hire a third secretary if you really needed it. So are we on?”

Mustang sat back and tilted his head in consideration before glancing at Havoc.

“Do you want to make a bet lieutenant?” Mustang asked.

Havoc coughed and turned to walk towards the door. “No sir. I do not want to get involved.”

Mustang looked back at Ed. “You’re on.”

\-----

Al had laughed at him. A lot. Enough that the line crackled as Al tried to breathe. Ed had scowled into the phone, and had threatened to tell Ling about Al’s stash of Amestrian candy. 

“Oh Brother,” Al had said. “You know what the General does to you! You won’t even make it to bed without losing your bet.”

Ed had been tempted to ask Al what he meant by that, but decided that maybe ignorance was bliss, and that he _ really _ did not want to know what Al knew of his minor crush on his C.O.

“Good luck with your bet Brother, but don’t give yourself an aneurysm trying to refrain from swearing, and trying to hide your crush on the General at the same time.”

Ed had not meant to slam the phone onto the receiver, but his elbow had acted of its own accord, and he had stared at the wall for a solid minute while he tried to burn the memory of Al’s words out of his brain.

He might have a point. It often took his whole focus to distract himself away from staring or saying something stupid while Mustang was in the room. It wasn't his fault that the General was so distracting with his stupid hair, stupid uniform, stupid eyes, and those extra stupid gloves which had totally not been prominently featured in a certain dream that had awoken him at an early hour only a few days ago. Anyways the point was that he might just be in a little bit over his head... Not because he was short ,which he wasn't, but because the waters were too deep and loaded with undercurrents.

Well, he certainly wasn't going to back down from a challenge, no matter how idiotic it was, especially when it was issued by the Bastard General. Ed thought for a second, he swore a lot when he talked to people, so if he kept his mouth shut he wouldn't be able to swear! Right?

\-----

Central Station was already bustling with activity, at the unholy hour of 8am, when Ed strode up the stairs towards the group of military men standing by one of the trains.

"General Mustang Sir!" Ed stood at full attention wearing an impeccable military costume and appearing, at first glance, to be a perfect soldier. Mustang raised a sardonic brow. Ed's posture was perfect, but the mocking glint in his eye assured him that Ed hadn't suffered a head injury and was displaying the first signs of insanity.

"Major Elric reporting for duty, Sir."

"You would be so much more convincing if you didn't look like you were ready to explode from laughter Fullmetal." Mustang sighed.

Ed grinned and shifted back into his usual slouch. "Well I figured that if I was gonna talk like the perfect soldier I might as well look like one."

Fuery and Falman looked amused and Breda, who had been standing back watching the exchange with confusion, stepped forward with a deep laugh. " You had me worried for a minute there! I was about to go get a doctor to check your temperature."

"Yeah it was weird," Havoc said. " Please don't do that again Boss, I might have a stroke if I hear you say something like that ever again."

"Although," Breda said "You should definitely keep the blues. They suit you."

Ed glanced away uncomfortably as everyone looked him up and down and all nodded in agreement. "Thanks." He said, desperate for a change in conversation. "Hey, where's Hawkeye?" 

"Right behind you Edward." A dry voice said.

Ed jolted hard enough to nearly trip over himself. "F---." He began before catching himself and turning around to face Riza. "Was that really necessary?"

"Well someone has to make sure that everyone is aware of their surroundings." Hawkeye said with a tilt of her head. "You've never been easy to sneak up on. What was it that the General was saying that had you so distracted?"

Ed flushed. "Nothing. I-"

"We were saying that he should wear the uniform more often. It suits him." Fuery interrupted.

Hawkeye gave him a cursory glance. "Hmm indeed it does." She turned her attention to the team. "Well we didn't come here to discuss Major Elric's clothing choices. Here are your tickets." She said while handing them out. "Try not to lose them." She levelled a hard look at Havoc. "And don't 'accidentally' set them on fire."

Havoc flailed and tried to defend himself but Hawkeye was already ushering them towards the second last carriage.

\-----

This had been the longest hour of Ed’s life. He had tried to chat with Havoc, but found that it was increasingly difficult to avoid cursing. He had very nearly slipped up and Mustang had glanced up with barely hidden glee, but he had managed to reign himself in just in time. If he was going to win this bet then he would have to shut his mouth forever. 

The problem was that he was bored. He wasn’t awake enough to try and solve some alchemical equations, but he wasn’t tired enough to fall asleep on the uncomfortable train seat. Ever since the whole thing with Father and the gate, Ed had noticed that he had lost his once famous trick of being able to fall asleep anywhere. Truth was such a bastard that it wouldn’t have surprised Ed if it had taken it along with his alchemy, but Falman had said that maybe Ed was getting old, and Ed did not like that idea one bit. It was one thing to have a mysterious other-dimensional being steal your one useful talent, but it was a complete other nightmare to realize that he too was mortal. He had always known that he was but flesh, blood and an ungodly amount of metal, but despite all of that he had been so desperate to save Al that he had never really accepted that he could die. Now Al was whole, and in freaking Xing of all places, and Ed would really have to try and age gracefully, so that he would be there to teach Al’s great grandchildren how to make things explode. Unless, of course, he had used a _ little  _ bit too much soul energy to fix what that asshole Kimbley had done to him. He should probably tell Al about that someday. 

He sighed and looked around the General Bastard’s private train car (Stupid military and their stupid obession with ‘pomp and circumstance’) Fuery and Havoc were laughing about something up at the front while Breda flipped through a newspaper. Falman was sat at a booth with his hands clasped, and his nose buried in a pile of documents. Hawkeye and Mustang were sitting just across from him, but they were both far too busy with paperwork to notice Ed’s glance. No one in the group had aged particularly badly (a part of his mind screamed ‘especially not Mustang’ but Ed was not in the habit of letting his idiot brain dwell on that subject for more than a few seconds). Falman hadn’t really changed since Ed had met him, and neither had Hawkeye. Fuery had lost some of his boyish profile, and both Breda and Havoc complained of a few more aches and pains, but they had all somehow made it through the coup with few injuries. Physical injuries were one thing, but mental trauma was another and Ed doubted that there was anyone on the team who didn’t have some form of PTSD. Unfortunately there was no automail fix for the brain.

Al had been gone for nearly two years now. Ed had left too, for a bit, but he came back. Al kept saying he was going to come back eventually, but Alkahestry was complicated, and it was taking a long time to master. Ed really missed him. He missed having Al’s advice always available to him, and not subject to the whims of technology. Last week Ed had finally been ready to ask Al what to do about Mustang, because he _ may  _ have been flirting with Ed, but just as Ed began to tell Al about it, the line had cut off. So now he had to trust his own judgement. Had Mustang been flirting with him? It was really hard to tell sometimes. It had taken a man literally shoving his tongue down Ed’s throat in Creta, for Ed to realize that the man had not _ actually _ been interested in Amestrian culture, just Ed’s ass. An ass that had promptly walked away, because Ed had been engaged to Winry. Ed winced at the memory. This is why he needed Al! If he had asked Al about what to do about Winry, Al would have said something sensible, and reminded him that it wasn’t fair to offer marriage when Ed was still mumbling about Mustang in his sleep. 

Since Al was unable to offer his advice, Ed had looked into the matter himself. A few guys at a nightclub had told him....Well they had told him _ a lot _ of stuff, but they were all high off their tits, and Ed discounted almost everything they said, except for the part where they said to make sure that Mustang knew that Ed was interested in men. It wasn’t a big deal. Unlike Creta, Amestris had never prosecuted people for their sexuality, but how would Mustang know if Ed didn’t say something? Ed knew that Mustang dated anyone who he thought looked ‘hot’, because he had said so after several drinks at the pub. Breda had once mentioned that Mustang had once dated a guy named Jean, and that it had driven Havoc up the wall, because he kept hearing Mustang talk about ‘Jean’ and he didn’t know if he meant him, or his boyfriend. 

It had been nearly a year ago when he had been at the pub with the team, and Havoc had insisted on finding Ed a ‘nice girl’ and Ed had rolled his eyes and said ‘Fucking hell, I’m not  _ that _ picky, a nice guy would work too.’ Fuery had laughed and said something about casting a wide net, and Havoc had proceeded to tell Ed all about his cousin, who he thought Ed would really like. Mustang had not said anything, but had watched the exchange with little interest. Ed knew Mustang had heard him, and although nothing really changed, Ed had noticed that the General kept looking at him. The watchful eye of the guardian had become the observant eye of a spectator, who no longer treated Ed like a kid, but like an equal.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the silver watch. 10:15 am. Would this ride never end?

“Edward?” 

Ed turned and saw Hawkeye pile a bunch of papers in front of the empty seat beside her.

“Could you please take a look at these? There seems to be some sort of alchemical code that the General is far too busy to try and crack himself.”

Ed stood and walked across the aisle to the booth where Hawkeye and The Bastard were sitting. He easily slid in beside Hawkeye and immediately began to read.

“You're being quiet.” General Bastard said without looking up from the paper he was holding with little interest.

“Mmhmm.” Ed agreed.

Mustang looked up at him “Don’t trust yourself to speak?”

Ed ignored him.

“Well considering how close you came earlier while you were talking to Havoc I really can’t blame you.”

Ed continued to ignore him despite the annoying smug sound that said that Mustang was smirking at him.

“It's not like you to be taciturn Fullmetal.” Mustang paused for effect. “ You’ve always made a lot of noise for someone who is so...compact.”

Ed’s head shot up and he glared ferociously at the absolute bastard who was feigning interest in whatever document he was pretending to read. 

Hawkeye sighed “General, you did not specify that Fullmetal was not allowed to refrain from talking inorder to win this ‘bet’ so there is no need to antagonize him for something that you forgot to include in the rules.”

Ed’s anger abated a little at the tone of sheer disappointment that Hawkeye was leveling at Mustang.

“If you plan on continuing to play politics, I suggest that in future you spend more time considering the terms and conditions of any sort of agreement, rather than just agreeing and then realizing that you should have been more specific.”

Hawkeye’s tone was so cold that Mustang looked like he had just been slapped. Ed grinned.

“I-” Mustang began to say, but was cut off by Hawkeye’s glare.

“With all do respect General, shut up and finish signing these documents. We still have to go over the details about the new dam.”

“What’s the deal with their new dam?” Ed asked.

“Oh so you're talking now?”

Ed ignored him, and Hawkeye said “I do not want to hear anything from you until you have finished those reports.” 

She turned back to Ed. “Atossa has been trying to get a new power station built , but the alchemists were having some trouble extending some of the old dam’s walls, which was something they needed to do inorder to increase the power production.” Hawkeye said “It has taken almost 7 years, but they have finally completed it and so this afternoon we will be attending the grand opening.”

“Why’d Grumman send us?” Ed asked.

“Because Atossa has been rather...critical of the military in the past, and the Fuhrer thinks that they need to see the military’s new and ‘young’ generation.” Hawkeye said.

“Soooo basically they’re sending us because Mustang has a pretty face?” Ed asked.

Hawkeye almost laughed, and Mustang looked up from his reading.

“Oh my! Edward, I was not aware that you thought of me in that manner.” General Bastard said in that smarmy voice he always used while on the phone with a potential date.

Ed was going to kill him. Once the blood stopped rushing to his face, and returned to his limbs, he was going to kill him.

“Don’t say things like that Ed!” Breda called “It’ll go to his already overly inflated head.”

Ed dug his palms into his eyes. Maybe if he pushed hard enough he could force his atoms closer together and he would implode into a blackhole never to be seen again.

Hawkeye tapped her pen “How much agricultural land was lost during this dam expansion project?” She asked Mustang.

Mustang finally stopped watching Ed and looked over at her. “What?”

“How much agricultural land was lost during this dam expansion project?”

“...300 acres?”

Hawkeye stared at him in open disapproval. “They will ask you how soon the government will finish the compensation payments to the 450 families who have lost their farms due to the reservoir expansion.”

“So it’s more than 300 acres?” Mustang said, looking chagrined. 

“Read the report.” 

Mustang looked sheepishly down at the paper pile that he had been skimming, and with a final pout he picked it back up and resumed reading.

\---

The sun was high in the sky by the time Ed put down the alchemical code. He had made significant progress only to discover that the papers held nothing but a simple variation of the standard water manipulation sigils. It seemed that the author had been experimenting with creating new equations for the most basic alchemical processes. Interesting, yes. Useful, not really. He looked around and saw Havoc coming towards them.

“Congrats Boss, you’re 5 hours in!” He said with a rueful cheeriness. 

Ed gave a half smile “I’ve been readin half the time.”

“And you should definitely keep that up.” Havoc said with a grin. “You can’t-”

He was cut off by the violent shaking of the carriage as the brakes screeched, and the wheels shuddered. Ed reached out and grabbed him, letting him fall onto the seat rather than the floor. Hawkeye had also grabbed for him, but was focusing most of her effort to keep the files from flying off the table. Mustang had jolted forward, and was half lying on the table while gripping the edges for dear life. Ed couldn’t see what the rest of the team were doing, but from the pained groans he guessed that at least one of them had been thrown from their seats.

The screeching of the breaks got louder and the shaking became so violent that, despite his best efforts to keep them both off the floor, Havoc’s poorly balanced weight pulled Ed down. There was nothing to do but grab one of the table legs and hold on for dear life.

It took a small eternity, during which Ed was composing the apology his ghost would have to give Al when all of the vibrating metal would collapse in and crush them all into one hell of a morbid sculpture, but the shaking slowed and finally stopped as the train miraculously managed to come to a full stop without flying off the tracks. Good thing, because he didn’t think his ghost would survive Al’s anger at him being stupid enough to go off and die.

In a split second Hawkeye was up and wielding her gun. Mustang made a move to stand, but a sharp “GET DOWN SIR.” was enough to have Mustang join Ed and Havoc on the floor.

A second of silence passed and Ed decided that huddling on the floor was stupid, and he needed to see the enemy if he was going to fight them. Crawling on all fours he slid into the bench where he had been sitting earlier in the trip and peered out of the window.

There was nothing. Nothing but green grass and rolling hills. The train had stopped on a gentle curve, so he could see the tracks leading off into the distance where they joined a bridge--but wait--where were the tracks on the bridge? There was a railing, and the metal trusses that held up the tracks that would normally cross the rather large valley were still there...no, only  _ some _ of them were there. Ed squinted and finally saw the rails that had been twisted and torn away as though a giant toddler had decided to destroy his new train set. Ed barely had time to blink before he was looking around for the source of the destruction and there it was. Just barely visible stood what had been the second largest dam in Amestris reduced to half its previous size.

“Oh. SHIT!” Ed spun around. “Look, Mustang!”

The General shot up and was at the window beside Ed in an instant. His face went pale. “Hawkeye. Take the men down to Atossa by foot. We can’t be more than a mile away and this train will not be able to get into town.”

Hawkeye nodded and without even pausing to see what had Mustang so shocked, she had Havoc, Fuery, Breda and Falman outside and running along the tracks. The General looked at Ed.

“I trust you can take care of the civilians in the other carriages, I’ll go to the carriage in front of us and get Colonel Wakes to get her men down to the town.” 

Ed nodded and followed Mustang out of the door and into the meadow that surrounded the train. There were 2 military cars attached to the train, and only about 7 standard cars. Ed ran towards the first carriage, and with a swift turn of the handle he let himself in.

“IS ANYBODY HURT?” He called out.

A few people moaned, and one child began to cry louder, but no one seemed to be bleeding out.

“IS THERE ANYONE ONBOARD WHO IS A DOCTOR OR NURSE?” 

This time one lady who was already bent over the body of a man who had been flung from his seat replied. “I’m a nurse. This man has a broken wrist.” Ed pushed through the panicked passengers towards her.

“Okay. I need your help.” Ed said. “EVERYONE ELSE, GET OFF THE TRAIN. THERE MAY BE ANOTHER TRAIN COMING BEHIND US, AND THEY MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO STOP IN TIME!” 

The passengers stared at him blankly, before one lady at the front widened her eyes and in one swift movement, grabbed her purse, and was off the train. Everyone else watched frozen, but the meaning of Ed’s words settled in and he was almost crushed by the flurry of people running towards the exit. He and the nurse hung back and helped the injured man to his feet. Once the crowd was outside and calling for all the other carriages to evacuate, Ed held the door open for the nurse and her patient. They had barely stepped outside when a shrill whistle was heard over the noise of the people.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! STEP AWAY FROM THE TRAIN. HELP IN COMING, BUT IN THE MEANTIME WE NEED TO KNOW WHO IS INJURED AND IF THERE ARE ANY MEDICAL STAFF ON BOARD!”

A young man, who Ed knew as Major Stanton, stood on the roof of the train with a loud speaker. Why did he have one of those? No fair, Ed wanted one too.

Ed turned to the nurse with a wry smile. “Your lucky day.” He said before hauling her through the crowd while Stanton repeated his message and the crowd began to separate.

“MAJOR! SHE’S A NURSE!” Ed called up at the man who squinted down at him before nodding in recognition. 

“I’m a firefighter.” A middle aged woman said as she forced her way to the front of the crowd.

“Perfect, can you two go check the carriages to see if anyone is stuck and unable to walk?” Ed asked.

They both nodded and sped off as some of Colonel Wakes’ men began to push the crowd back a safe distance. Ed looked back up at Stanton.

“Where’s the Conductor?” he called up.

“Second Lieutenant Rojas is locating him. General Mustang and Colonel Wakes are organizing aid from Central, we think this happened only a few minutes before we arrived because the 1pm train didn’t report anything unusual and they were 15 minutes ahead of us.”

“Is there another train coming?” Ed asked.

“We are trying to contact the station, but the line is busy.” The Major said.

Ed scowled, and turned to look at the train. The nurse lady was carrying a bleeding child from one carriage, and a man was helping a woman who couldn’t put weight on her left leg. Good. At least the passengers were cooperating. 

“Fullmetal.” 

Ed turned to see Mustang looking cool and in command.

“We have to go join the others. Atossa is just down the hill and around that curve.” He said pointing to the left of the destroyed bridge. “JOYCE, GRANT YOU’RE WITH ME.” The General said before walking quickly past Ed and down towards the town.

The closer to the valley that Ed got, the more he could see of the dam. Atossa was a town split in two. Half of the town was on the west side of the river, while the other was on the east side. There were three bridges that connected the two sides, which had been completely washed away only minutes prior. The average sized river wound around coulees and a few kilometers upstream was the recently completed, and now demolished, Atossa dam. Ed glanced at it a few times while trying to keep pace with the Bastard General who had freakishly long legs, and he noticed that it seemed that only the newly built top half of the extension had collapsed. The river valley was fairly deep, and the new extension had reached halfway up the valley, but now it was once again reduced to the height of the old dam which stood about a quarter of the previous height . How had this happened!? Had they gotten some half rate alchemist to do their shoddy construction project? 

Ed expected that the entire town had been flushed away by the sheer force of the water wall that must have descended on them, but as the houses came into view he realized that the town had been extraordinarily lucky. There seemed to have been very few roads leading all the way to the river with most of the houses being situated further up. The curves in the valley seemed to have sheltered most of the town from the harshest pounding, but it seemed that the west side had been more affected than the East. Some houses, bridges, and docks were gone, but the damage was much more limited in scope than he had first imagined. 

“I guess it would have been worse...” Ed said

“Do you know what is further downstream Fullmetal?” Mustang asked with hardly a sideways glance.

“No. I didn’t finish school, remember.”

“17 towns and villages.” Mustang said.

Ed blanched.

“This flood of water will have wiped out any structure that was built anywhere near water level. In 17 kilometers the river enters Lake Ames, where many people in West city go to retire. It will take years to rebuild.” Mustang said gravely.

The two soldiers who had joined them whispered amongst each other, while Ed followed Mustang into the disaster zone.

\-----

No matter how many times Ed reminded himself that he had seen worse, he simply couldn’t stop being absolutely horrified every time he came across a new body drenched in mud. Sometimes they were still alive, and sometimes they weren’t.

Who knew how many hours had passed, but the sun was nearly at the tree line, and Ed hadn’t had time to notice. The problem was that the water had suddenly flooded parts of the town, and the water carried with it loads of silt and debris, so it wasn’t like people had simply had their homes hosed down, but rather the home had gotten mowed down by a giant tree trunk being thrust against it at full force. It was a week day, and most people had not been home during the event, but the residential areas of the town that were closest to the river were a complete loss, and several families had lost a loved one. Ed had noticed new contingents of soldiers appearing, and a few were repeating orders that they had been given by General Mustang, but he was too busy helping the locals to care what anyone else was doing. He, and several other people were trying to reach some of the worst affected areas, but there was too much mud in the way, and no one could safely reach what was left of the riverside structures.

At some point someone handed him a sandwich, which he ate and then immediately regurgitated when he tried to pull some plywood off what he thought was a body, only to reveal that the hand he had seen was not attached to a body and gotten wedged in what looked to be a collapsed shed.

Ed didn’t know if that had been worse than helping another mud covered soldier dig up what appeared to be a baby’s leg to discover, much to their relief, that it was actually the foot of a doll. Ed had looked up at the other man only to realize that it was Mustang, almost unrecognizable in his filthy uniform. They had looked at each other and gently placed the toy on some nearby debris in silent hope that its owner would still be alive to reclaim it.

“What’s the situation?” Ed asked.

Mustang sighed and dropped all pretence of command. “It’s bad. I just received note that the debris from the dam has caused some blockage near the lake, so several communities are being evacuated. West City has sent several alchemists to deal with it and to limit the damage caused by standing water.” He pointed towards the dam “It could have been significantly worse if the whole dam had collapsed, but fortunately the old dam has held up quite well. There is a team of engineers and alchemists ensuring that it remains stable.”

“Do they know what caused the breach?” Ed asked.

“No. The reservoir was only at half it’s new capacity, and the dam seemed to have sprung a leak in the middle only a few meters above where the old dam ended. There were a few eye witnesses who told us that they saw it give way. Central will be sending out a specialist team to investigate what happened tomorrow morning.”

“Who’s incharge of this operation?” Ed said as he flicked a chunk of dried mud from his arm.

“I’ve just been relieved. It seems that Fuhrer Grumman will be taking direct charge of it. He will be here tomorrow afternoon.”

“Ha. I’d have thought that he’d put you incharge.” Ed scoffed.

Mustang grimaced “It would appear that the Fuhrer has taken it upon himself to show a strong front to the people.”

Ed smiled “So watcha mean is that he doesn’t want you takin all the glory.”

“It would appear to be so.”

“Makes sense. Bradley always had a war or somethin happening where he could parade around his might, but Grumman has been signing peace treaties so it’d be good for him to be seen out of Central” Ed grumbled.

Mustang nodded. “Very insightful, Edward.”

Ed flushed, but luckily he was so covered in grime that there was no way Mustang saw that. “Well ya don’t exactly pay me for my looks.”

The General smiled “Hmmm.” There was a flash of a roguish smile, and he gave Ed a long considering look that involved dragging his eyes up and down Ed’s (perfectly average) height twice before saying “I suppose we don’t, but I’m sure a raise could be arranged.”

What the fuck!? Ed tried to look at anything except the stupidly attractive man in front of him who had chosen to flirt with him in the middle of a literal disaster zone. Screw him. Screw him and his stupid face and his even stupider timing. “Yeah well ya couldn't afford me.”

Mustang laughed “You are right about that. The military is getting quite the deal. I wasn’t kidding about the raise though Fullmetal. I would however insist on promoting you though, in order to justify the increased salary.”

“Really!?” Ed exclaimed. “This AGAIN? Not a chance in hell Bastard.”

“I do believe that counts as a swear, so I win our bet.”

Ed groaned “No I lost on the train after we stopped.”

“I think those were extraordinary circumstances and did not necessarily count.”

“Don’t coddle me! I lost. You won. Happy?” Ed snapped.

The laughter left Mustang’s expression as he looked at their surroundings. “No. I’m really not.”

Ed stumbled as he too surveyed their immediate area. It was an awful sight.

“You are to be relieved in half an hour Fullmetal. Meet us in front of the horse statue by the town hall.” 

Ed nodded, and watched as Mustang took a deep breath and settled back into his personna before briskly walking away. Ed sighed and looked around for something to do. The town had pulled together and anyone who could help was up to their elbows in debris, there were a couple people a few steps away who were clearing branches and rocks from the road. His alchemy would have been very useful for this situation, but he wasn’t in the habit of dwelling on what could have been, he was lucky that Mustang had convinced the upper brass to keep him on as a researcher even if he could test arrays himself otherwise he might have had to go through basic training and reenter the military as nothing more than a private, and oh wouldn’t Hakuro have loved that. 

He bent over to pick up a large rock that was sitting in the middle of the road, and he dropped it onto a pile of garbage that was steadily growing on what used to be someone’s front lawn. It was followed by a few planks of wood, a baseball, and several arm loads of bricks before he reluctantly turned to walk towards the town hall. 

The sun was setting by the time they made it to the hotel. Ed had been expecting to have a military tent and cot to sleep in, but Mustang had pulled some strings and had gotten them rooms in the Whitehall Hotel. Apparently the hotel’s management didn’t want to house any poor people who might damage their ‘designer chesterfields’ (whatever those were) so they had arranged to have only the highest ranking military officials stay in their rooms. The reception was decorated with autographs of famous people who had stayed at their ‘award winning’ hotel, and Ed was determined that if anyone asked him to sign anything he’d ask Mustang to transmute the entire reception desk into a giant ‘E.E’ as a giant fuck you to the management. The proper thing to do would be to walk out the front door and go sleep in a tent, but he could feel the grime in his automail knee, and if he didn’t get it out before it did any more damage, Winry would have his neck. This hotel was guaranteed to have a tub with some hot water, which was far more than he’d get in a tent. Well it wasn’t like he would be getting a whole room to himself anyways, it appeared that Mustang had dismissed the suggestion that anyone with a station of Major or above get their own room, and had insisted that every bed be occupied. 

“General Mustang, sir. We have 3 rooms left for you and your men.”

“Perfect. How many beds in each?”

The Night Manager said “We have one King room, one room with two doubles, and finally our last Queen room.”

“Are there no pull out beds or cots left?” Mustang asked.

“No Sir. Colonel Wakes took the last one, and although each room features a chesterfield, they are all antiques and not suitable for a good night’s rest.” The Night Manager said.

Ed snorted. Of-fucking-course. Rich assholes with their stupid old furniture that is uncomfortable as hell. No rich bastard would value a comfortable new sofa no matter how comfy it is because it hasn’t accumulated enough farts to be considered an antique.

“Lieutenant Colonel, you will take the Queen, Fuery, Falman, Havoc, Breda take the doubles.” Mustang looked a little chagrined. “And I suppose Fullmetal will have to tolerate me for the time being.”

“Aww but I wanted to sleep with you Chief.” Havoc complained.

Mustang stared at him in disapproval. “That is precisely why I didn’t select you to have the privilege of kicking me out of bed. I suspect Breda will stand a better chance of not waking up on the floor when you inevitably decide to play soccer in your sleep.”

Havoc pouted. “But I wanted to join the ranks of the secretaries who are always gossiping about who has slept with you.”

Fuery, who looked like he was going to fall asleep standing up, started to laugh, and Breda shoved Havoc aside and grabbed the key that the Night Manager was holding out. 

“Shut up Jean. I’m too tired to deal with this right now.” Breda said as he led the exhausted, giggling Fuery down the hallway to the room.

“Well, it's not like Hawkeye and I could share a room. It would raise too many eyebrows.” Mustang said.

“You are quite correct about that sir.” The Lieutenant Colonel said before giving a crisp salute, and walking away.

Mustang took the last set of keys.

“This room’d better have a nice bathroom.” Ed grumbled as he followed Mustang.

“I suspect it will. Colonel Wakes has a larger team with her so she got several more rooms than we did, and of course Brigadier General Fuller insisted that he and half the army get rooms, so they got most of the upper floors, but I personally know that the rooms on the main floor are perfectly sufficient.”

“So you’ve stayed here before then?” Ed asked.

“I took Madame Christmas here for her birthday a few years ago.” Mustang said.

“She like it?” 

Mustang smiled “Not one bit. But that was really the point. She did however enjoy the poker tournament that was held in the casino next door, so I consider that weekend a success.”

“Go figure.” Ed said. “Look. I’m tired, and my leg is probably more mud than metal by now so I get to use the bathroom first.”

Mustang put the key in the lock and opened the door. “That won’t be any trouble my dear Edward, as you can see there is both a ‘bathroom’ and a ‘washroom’.”

The room was large, with an absolutely divine looking king-sized bed in the middle. A weird looking old chair thing was placed by the window, and lavish curtains framed a glass door that led to an ivy covered patio. The walls were a deep red, and there were gold and green accents in every corner. Across from the bed was a fireplace, and two doors on opposing sides. 

“What the fuck is that?” Ed asked as he pointed at the old weird chair looking thing.

“I believe it is called a settee.”

“What’s it stuffed with? Bricks? Now I see what that guy meant when he said that the couches aren’t meant for sleeping. I suppose they’re not meant for sitting either as that looks less comfortable than the floor!”

“Regardless. For the sake of our hosts I suggest that you take full advantage of the bathroom before touching anything in here.” Mustang said. “The Night Manager has insisted that the military cover any damages to the property while we stay here.”

“How kind of him to be so generous during a time of crises.” Ed said as he strode across the room and opened one of the doors beside the fireplace. “Hey! There’s no tub in here!”

Mustang sighed. “That would be the washroom Fullmetal. The other door should be the bathroom.”

“There’s a difference!?”

“Why yes, of course. One is a room for bathing, and the other is a room for--”

“It’s bullshit is what it is.” Ed interrupted. “We didn’t even have a bath back home. Mom would just fill a washing basin for us and plop it in front of the kitchen fireplace. No one called the kitchen a ‘bathroom’.”

“That would be because you grew up in what you so kindly call ‘the boonies’.” Mustang said.

Ed glared at him before opening the second door. “Screw you, I’m the only one who gets to call it the boonies.” He looked inside of the bathroom “Oh shit this is nice!” and slammed the door behind him before Mustang could say anything else.

The other room had had a large shower stall, toilet and a stupidly large sink. This room was significantly smaller, but featured a large corner tub that seemed to be outfitted with jets for some reason. There were black and white mosaic tiles on the floor, a deep green on the walls, and the unnecessarily high ceiling featured a golden dragon chandelier. He was definitely going to draw an array for it so that when Al came back he could transmute it for their apartment. It would be so cool!

He walked over to the tub and began to fill it up with the hottest water he could coax out of the tubes. It seemed that he wasn’t the only person to have had this idea though, as the tub barely got half way full before the hot water ran out. He supposed he could go ask Mustang to heat some water for him, but he really was too tired. Instead he threw the filthy uniform to the side and shook off the worst of the dirt before slipping into the water. He looked at the mess he made and decided to leave a generous tip for the cleaning staff.

The hot water was a balm to the hundred aches that he felt from head to automail toe. He hadn’t noticed how much his port hurt, but now that he finally took his weight off of it he felt an overwhelming sense of bliss. The water had turned brown, and he focused on making sure no dirt remained in his leg before he focused on his hair. His bangs were plastered with sweat, but luckily there was little dirt anywhere except at the ends of his ponytail. He gingerly dipped it into the water, but decided that it was far too dirty to be used on his head. There was nothing for it. He was exhausted and would drown if he stayed in the tub any longer, but there was no hot water left so… He sighed and pulled the plug. He watched as the final drops swirled down the drain before getting onto his knees and bending his head beneath the water spout. He pulled the elastic from his hair and used one arm to brace himself, and the other to turn on the water. This was going to suck.

The ice cold water hit his skull with the force of a hammer. Fuck he hated doing this. Winry always said that cold water was the secret to beautiful hair, but he really didn’t feel like dousing his scalp in cold water everytime he needed to wash his hair, he might freeze his brain, and then he’d really be out of a job. No alchemy and no brain left for research, it would be such a terrible waste! There. That was enough! Or at least it had better be enough, because he couldn’t feel his neck anymore. He spun the tap off, and his hand flapped around for the towel he had placed on the ledge. He waited with his head bent forward to avoid getting any icy drops down his spine. The sound of the shower was coming from the other room, and Ed scowled as he imagined Mustang snapping his fingers and keeping the water coming out at a decent temperature. With a swift movement he threw the towel around his head, and wound it up into a turban. He grabbed another towel before reaching for the bathrobe that the hotel had so generously provided. There was a knock at the door, and since ‘enjoying an unfairly hot shower’ Mustang was still happily lathering away, Ed answered the door. A young woman stood outside with a pile of folded fabric that looked like standard issue pyjamas. Thank Fuck. Sharing a room and bed with Mustang was gonna be hella awkward if headquarters had forgotten that their luggage was still stuck on that train.

“Thanks.” Ed smiled

“No problem.” The young woman said. “Lieutenant Sage will have any luggage that was in the train brought down for you for tomorrow.”

Ed smiled at her and closed the door. 

Army issue clothing was never the most comfortable, but he was way too tired to care. He ditched the bathrobe and towel turban, and pulled the shirt over his head. It was a little long, and so were the pants, but there really wasn’t energy to spare on anger, so he flicked off the lights and dove under the covers. He had no idea at what time Mustang stopped preening in the mirror because he was long asleep before the washroom door opened.

\---

There was mud everywhere. There was mud in his ears, eyes, and probably half a ton of it in his throat. He couldn’t breathe, he really couldn’t breathe! He was swimming upward, but the surface was always moving away from him, and he couldn’t see! Suddenly a tiny hand grabbed his arm and pulled him out but didn’t let go. Ed coughed and blinked until he could look around for his saviour, only to see the tiny hands and feet of a baby sticking out of the ocean of mud and debris. Ed screamed and pulled the child out only to have it’s lifeless eyes open and ask in a mechanical voice “Mama?”

Ed shot awake only to hit his head against something. That something turned out to be Mustang’s shoulder.

“Ed are you alright?” Mustang asked.

He looked around confused. The bedside lamps were on, and Mustang was looming over him like a worried aunt.

“M’fine.”

Mustang sighed and sat on the floor in front of Ed, facing the bed. “Was it the doll?” he asked.

Ed looked down at him, some rudimentary part of his brain commenting about the height difference, and nodded.

Mustang ran his hands over his face and Ed noted that there were some documents on the uncomfortable chair looking thing that Mustang had called a ‘settee’. 

“Weren’t you sleeping?” He asked.

Mustang laughed darkly, and looked as exhausted as he had when he had helped Ed dig up that accursed doll. The last time Ed had seen Mustang look so....human was back in the tunnels with Envy, and even then there had been Hawkeye to handle him, and Ed hadn’t had to do anything after the rage left him and the sadness set in. Like most children, Ed had assumed that adults were smart and that they always knew what to do, but that disillusion had faded over time as he discovered that few adults actually knew what they were doing, and that even fewer of them actually had any idea of what was happening at any given point. Mustang was a conniving bastard, and would always be one, but it was at times like this he saw that even that was mostly a facade. Mustang had plans and goals, but most of the time he was bluffing; pretending to have more of a grasp on the situation than he really had. Mustang would always be right, and ensure that everything went as planned, but Roy was just behind that mask and crossing his fingers that every new twist worked out in his favour, and hoping that no one noticed that he had dropped the reins nearly an hour ago. Obviously Roy wasn’t an idiot, he had a very good strategy and was dedicated to ensuring that it all worked out, but there were so many variable that he could never dream of controlling, so a lot of his plans relied on hope and good luck; because you never know when some one like Hukaro would finally crack and decide that The Flame Alchemist would look better on a tombstone than under the title Fuhrer. 

“The Lieutenant Colonel will kill you if she finds out you didn’t sleep.”

Mustang glared. “I did sleep...for about an hour, but the Lieutenant Colonel doesn’t need to know about that.”

“Bad dreams?” Ed asked.

Mustang nodded. He looked so lost sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up and the warm light of the lamp softening his features. 

Ed sighed and reached down to grab Roy’s arm. “Come on. You’ll be crippled by back pain tomorrow if you keep sitting down like that, and I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Roy let himself be hauled up, and he let himself be seated nearly on top of the automail foot.

“It’s fine. I had some paperwork to do for tomorrow's briefing with the Fuhrer.”

Ed stared at him, and Roy winced. “Fine, but when the dead baby wakes me up again I don’t want to hear a single complaint from you.”

“It was just a doll.”

Roy looked away. “That’s not what we thought back there.”

Ed looked down. “Yeah. Pretty sure I’ll be having nightmares about that for a year or so.”

They both sat in silence for a minute, letting the quiet of the night fill the room, and drown out the noise of the day. There was a calm breeze that fluttered the ivy outside, and Ed watched it through the window pane, until his eyes lost focus and he zero’d in on their reflection. They both looked awful. His hair was a giant rats nest, and Mustang looked like his favourite puppy had just died. Well they weren’t going to get any rest like this. Ed kicked at Mustang’s leg through the bedsheets.

“At least lie down and pretend you are sleeping. Al always says that practice makes perfect.”

Mustang groaned. “And here I thought I was the commanding officer.”

Ed gave a small smile “You can be the commanding officer again tomorrow once you’ve gotten at least 4 hours of sleep.”

Ed expected some sardonic response, but instead Roy gave him this weird little quavering smile thing, and crawled over to his side of the giant bed. The hell was that?

Ed watched him as he reached out and flicked a switch which turned off the lamps, and then settled down into the pillows. Ed wanted to lay down, but he really didn’t want to see that doll thing ever again, so instead he stayed put in his sitting position with the blankets drawn up around him.

“I can hear you thinking from over here.” Mustang grumbled after a long silence during which neither of them had moved.

“Mhmm.” Ed replied.

“Look. If I have to lay down and pretend I’m sleeping, so do you.”

Ed glanced at him. In the dark he could barely make out the outline of his face as he looked up at him.

“I don’t have to do anything.” Ed said.

“Oh please. I saw you on the train, you looked like you had barely slept at all last night.” Mustang said.

“Al called me. He had some stuff to tell me about Alkahestry, and it took me a while to get to bed.”

“Oh.” Mustang said. “How’s he doing in Xing?”

Ed fell back onto the pillows and stared at the ceiling. “He’s doing great. He has a private tutor and Mei helping him understand The Dragon’s Pulse, and of course Ling has insisted that Al needs to learn how to scale buildings like a freaking monkey. I’m going to have to get locks for all of the windows whenever Al gets into a pranking mood, because he’ll be able to jump scare me no matter where I am.”

“Won’t he be able to simple transmute the locks open?” Mustang asked.

Ed dug his palms into his eye sockets and tried to massage some sense into his brain. Obviously Al could do that. Al hadn’t lost his alchemy, he was whole and wonderful and full of wanderlust. A wanderlust that had taken him away to Xing of all places.

“It’s been nearly four years hasn’t it?” Roy asked.

Ed nodded, knowing full well that Roy couldn’t see it.

“I don’t think I ever asked, but how are you holding up without alchemy?”

Ed laughed. Coarse and long. “I dunno. I got used to not having a leg, but there’s always automail for that.”

Roy said nothing, and the silence dragged on.

“Look. it’s not like I regret doing it. Al was worth it, and I’d do it again if I had to, but it’s nothing that automail or a philosopher’s stone can fix so I dealt with it.” He said bitterly.

“It sounds like you haven’t quite ‘dealt’ with it Edward.” 

“What makes you think that? The fact that I’m still desperately running around pretending I am still a state alchemist when everyone and their dog knows that I can’t do shit!?” Ed spat out. “I know what people think. That asshole Hakuro is constantly making comments about how useless I am, and how I’d be serving the army better if I knelt down and polished his boots.” He felt the bed shift as Mustang leaned up on one elbow, but he didn’t care. “Last week he and his piece of shit secretary were saying how rough it must be to know that I peaked at 16 and that I’d spend the rest of my life trying to achieve something that wouldn’t look like shit in comparison. As if I didn’t already fuckin KNOW!” He spun to face away from Mustang before the burning anger turned into tears.

“Edward” Mustang began.

“LEMME ALONE.” Ed said, and cursed as he heard his voice crack and the first tear run down his face. When would he learn to stop crying when he was angry?

For a moment, nothing came from the opposite side of the bed, but Ed knew better than to expect General ‘loves-the-sound-of-his-own-voice’ to stay quiet for very long. Ed wasn’t expecting the rustling of fabric, and the warm hand on his shoulder. Fuck.

“Oh, Ed.” The hand squeezed his shoulder, and Ed absolutely refused to so much as breathe. “No one except idiots like Hukaro think that of you.”

Ed rasped out a laugh and shifted enough to see the idiot who was talking. “Yes, and you would know why? You’re a General. Of course people don’t say these things when you’re around! It’s always ‘Oh my General you look nice today’ and ‘your buttons are especially polished today.’ If you ever get any criticism it’s from the other generals, and luckily for you they are severely outnumbered by the masses you outrank.” Ed curled in upon himself. “Meanwhile us poor fucks have to deal with Hukaro’s minions in the cafeteria who ‘accidentally’ spill tomato soup on you and then say ‘I’m SOooOOooo sorry. But you’re an alchemist so you can fix it no problem.’ and then say ‘oh whoops I forgot you can’t do anything anymore.’ And I can’t even beat the shit out of him because then it’ll affect your scheme and Hakuro will go around saying that I’m mentally unstable or some shit and next thing I know I’m in a fuckin asylum.” Ed wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t going to cry! Al was worth it! Al was worth all of it! Now if only he could shut himself up and never think about this again, then everything would be fine! It didn’t matter that he could be actually useful if he could still transmute. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t clean up the streets of this stupid town with a clap of his hands because there were other real alchemists who could do that, and he could simply let the real alchemists do their job. The job he couldn’t do because no matter how many people needed help, he would never again be able to, and they’d all go away in disappointment. 

He brought a hand up to his face to wipe away a stray tear. A hand that could do almost nothing at 20 compared to what it could do when he was 16. Fuck. He had peaked hadn’t he? What was there now? Useless hands, an empty title, and a future of playing ‘state alchemist’. Dammit! He was so fucking useless and stuck trying to be what he had been before Truth. Al knew didn’t he? Al knew that he was useless, and that’s why he had told him to go travel and then marry Winry, but nooo Ed had to come back from Creta to rejoin the military because the bastard General had asked him to, probably out of sympathy after hearing that Winry had decided to break up their engagement. Was there anything he couldn’t fuck up? Anyone who didn’t pity him?Hhe thought the pity for being a double amputee was bad, but this was so much worse! And Al knew. Al knew!

Al was the breaking point. It was one thing to have Hukaro think he was a waste of space, but Al mattered, and Al was what? Placating him by letting him play state alchemist? That was too much and Ed finally lost the battle and screamed brokenly into his pillow. It didn’t matter that Mustang was there. He was already a failure of an alchemist, so why not also be a failure at being an adult? The hand on his shoulder tightened and the bed shifted some more, but Ed didn’t care. Fuck he  _ really  _ didn’t care. He could die right now and everyone would think that it was for the best.

He screamed into the pillow again and his hands gripped the pillow as if they were trying to break it’s non-existent neck. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried like this. He hadn’t let himself cry for the last four years because he feared that Truth would hear him and decide that he was an ungrateful little twat who didn’t deserve neither alchemy or Al, and then it would whisk Al back into that void. 

There was a hand rubbing soothing circles into his back, but Ed didn’t care. Mustang was probably saying something but it didn’t matter. Ed just hugged himself harder.

Suddenly, Ed felt the blankets being pulled away, and two arms dragging him away from the edge of the bed and towards the middle. Before he could react he was enveloped in an embrace and buried under a pile of blankets. The sudden movement from a horizontal position to being forced to sit up was a little shocking, but not shocking enough to pull him out of this self-induced panic attack, so without his express permission his arms wrapped themselves around Roy and continued crying on his shoulder. Some far away part of his brain was telling him that he was being stupid, and that he was going to die of shame tomorrow, but that part was really far away, and Ed didn’t care.

Roy was saying something...what was he saying?

“In…out.”

In out what?

Ed felt his own breathing slow down, and for the first time in way longer than he cared to think about, he pulled in a steady breath.

“Good. Again. In...Out.” Roy inhaled and exhaled slowly as he said those words.

Ed focused on copying his actions. In...and out.

“You’re doing so well. In...Out.” Roy said again, and Ed blinked the salt out of his eyes.

“None of what you said was true, and I suspect you know that.” Roy was saying. “Anyone with half a brain knows that you’re the foremost alchemist in Amestris, and that whether or not you can transmute doesn’t change that. Hakuro is and has always been a moron, and I am really sorry that his subordinates have taken to adolescent bullying techniques, but you know that none of them are correct.” Roy’s hand continued to rub soothing circles on Ed’s back. “Next time one of them does anything to you, please feel free to break their face. I’ll make sure that you never face repercussions.”

Ed laughed a little bit hysterically into Roy’s shoulder. 

A hand came up and rested at the top of his neck, and buried itself into the tangled hair.

“I mean it. I didn’t ask you to return to Central because I pitied you, I asked you to return, because I need you. You’ve always been a genius, and now that you are focusing more on research rather than being sent out on whatever mission I’ve been told to sort, you’ve been absolutely brilliant. You and your brother by far surpass anything any other individual alchemist has ever achieved, and I am constantly in awe that you decided to use your skills to help me.”

Ed scoffed.

“No. seriously. Ed. Look at me.” 

And just like that Ed was pulled away from his hiding spot. Good thing it was dark, then maybe Roy wouldn’t see his gross face. He’d always been an ugly crier. Roy probably looked like a picturesque hero with a single perfect tear running down a perfect cheekbone. He’d never have to snort up an unreasonable amount of snot after crying. Which was exactly what Ed needed to do. Well, what's a little bit of disgusting snot noise when you’ve already thoroughly humiliated yourself?

Roy didn’t comment on the bubbling inhale and slight choking noise Ed made when he tried to swallow down what he had just cleared from his nose.

“I mean it Edward. As much as I complain about you, I never go longer than a day without thanking the universe that you decided to come back. You are irreplaceable.”

Ed didn’t say anything. He couldn’t say anything. He simply swallowed and tried to breathe.

“I know you want to help the people here more, but you have already done so much. Without you we’d all be dead! I know you want to transmute this whole disaster away, but it’s okay to let the other alchemists do that. We are all doing the best we can.”

Ed looked down at his hands. “Sorry.”

“Sorry for what? There’s nothing to be sorry about! I’m sorry I brought up a sore topic, I can’t imagine what losing your alchemy must be like, but I am getting the sense that you haven’t talked to anyone about it.”

Ed sniffed. “Well I couldn’t tell Al about it. He’d start feeling guilty and he already feels guilty enough, so I told him I was doing fine. Winry...well Winry is a problem solver. If I lose a leg, she builds me a new one, if I need a ladder, she finds a ladder. There is no solution to the loss of alchemy. She got all weird last time I mentioned it, and has avoided saying ‘alchemy’ like it’s a new curse word. Pinako just says ‘move one’ and Hoenhiem said ‘It’ll be fine.’ But it’s NOT FINE!” He balled his hands into fists and squeezed his eyes shut.

“It really isn’t, is it?” Roy asked before once again pulling him back into a hug.

Ed half expected him to tell him that ‘it’s fine and he has to move on’ but instead, he sat there quietly in what must have been an uncomfortable position until Ed’s eyes began to close, and he fell back asleep.

\---

Ed really did not want to wake up. 

He was having a stupidly nice dream where he was being crushed to death by a giant pillow, but that pillow had a lifesize image of Mustang on it so it was really, really okay.

The problem was that his brain had decided that he didn’t deserve to keep on having such a nice dream, so it had begun to wake up. Ed groaned and tried to turn and hide his face from the light that was beginning to seep in through the windows, but quickly discovered that he wasn’t able to move very much. Maybe he really was being crushed by some giant weight. He flicked an eye open only to immediately close it again. Fuck. 

A hot flush of humiliation flooded Ed, as the events of the night before sprang to his mind. He was such an idiot! Why’d he let himself get so worked up? Oh shit Mustang had seen everything! He had tried so hard over the past two years to appear mature and grown up, so that people would stop treating him like a kid, and that so maybe, just maybe, Mustang would...look at him like maybe… NO. no. no. no. no. no. He wasn’t going to torture himself over this right now. He would wait until he got back to his sad empty apartment, and then relive this moment in all its humiliation, so that he could finally accept that Mustang would never see him as anything other than a kid.

Mustang hadn’t woken up so maybe Ed could just…

And it was at that moment that Ed’s stomach also decided to betray him and join his brain in the traitor section. Never in his life had his stomach made such a loud noise, but of course it chose to try and imitate a roaring tiger THE ONE DAY that Mustang was basically plastered against him. 

The growl was so loud it practically echoed in the room.

Mustang shifted and looked around beerily. “Was that you?”

Ed took a deep breath and immediately sprung up. The very picture of youthful energy and carelessness. “Yep. I’m hungry! I want food!” he had already bounded to the door and opened it to find two trunks with their names written in Hawkeye’s steady hand. “Would’cha look at that! The train didn’t lose our luggage.” He instantly pulled both of them through the door and began to rummage through his own to pull out the spare uniform he had packed. Well he had lost the bet so it was no longer required as part of his ‘costume’ but he hadn’t packed anything else so he yanked it out and headed towards the washroom door.

“Edward.” A deep and slightly sleepy voice said.

Ed froze. He wanted to slam the door closed and hide away from whatever Mustang was going to say, but it would be of no use. The man loved to hear the sound of his own voice.

“It’s okay to cry. You don’t become less of a man for having emotions. Everyone has their moments, I am just glad you weren’t alone for yours.”

Ed didn’t move, he couldn’t move. He tried to reach for the door handle, but his shoulder slumped, and the fake cheer dissipated. He wanted to say something, wanted to make Roy understand what he was feeling, but all he could manage was a sideways glance back at him and a muttered heartfelt ‘thanks’ before he slipped into the washroom.

He didn’t let himself dwell on Roy’s words for too long. He had called him a ‘man’ so maybe...no. He had work to do. In a few seconds he was dressed, with his hair up, and the dried drool wiped off his face. He stepped out to find that Roy was already gone, and so he went to the reception desk to find out where they were hiding the food. He couldn’t remember when he last ate. He’d had a sandwich at some point yesterday, but it was hard to think about food while you were searching for survivors. The wonderful lady at reception pointed him towards the fancy restaurant which had been converted to a mess hall, and where several dozen soldiers were gathered. It was still early, and they had a while before they were back on shift, but it appeared that he wasn’t the only one desperate for food. 

The options were limited, but Ed had never been a picky eater, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now, when his stomach could growl unnaturally loudly again at any given moment, and he’d forever be branded some awful nickname just like Private Vomit-Toes. Fuck he really hated mess halls. 

“Hey Boss!” 

Ed turned to see Havoc and Breda waving him over.

“How’d’cha sleep?” Havoc asked.

Ed’s mind provided a very unhelpful powerpoint presentation of the night's events. “Pretty well. I was very tired.”

“Same.” Havoc agreed. “Problem was that I lost a game of rock, paper, scissors, and had to share a bed with Breda.” Havoc rolled his eyes and groaned theatrically. “It was like sleeping with an oven.”

“Oi” Breda said “You're one to talk! You kick so much I have bruises.”

Ed laughed. “Maybe that’s why you’re both single.”

The two men turned to look at him and mimed being stabbed. “How could you be so cruel, Boss?” Havoc said, clutching his chest.

“What have I ever done to deserve such cruelty?” Breda asked as he clutched his abdomen.

“Women often tend to have colder extremities, so someone like Breda should be very desirable.” Falman stated as he set his tray down beside Ed.

“And yet…” Fuery said wryly.

Breda looked affronted, but didn’t have a chance to say anything before Hawkeye sat down beside him.

“I hope we are discussing useful things, rather than prattling on about something that no one here at this table has any experience with other than Falman.” She said.

Everyone looked at Falman, who simply nodded at Hawkeye, and proceeded to give advice as to how to build a relationship that would last as long as his own marriage had. Ed didn’t really think much of this applied to him, as he didn’t think that a ‘brisk stroll through a rose garden’ sounded like a fun date, but it had worked for Falman so maybe it had its merits for some people. Havoc looked equally unconvinced, but that didn’t stop Falman, and so Ed tuned out the rest of the conversation in favour of focusing on scraping the burnt edges off his toast.

At some point Falman ran out of words to say, and they all sat in silence while they finished their breakfast. Finally Hawkeye broke the silence.

“I have received orders to have each of you assigned to certain tasks.” She put down her mug of mediocre coffee. “Falman, Fuery, and Breda you have each been assigned a squad of men who you will lead. Your main focus should be clearing the roads, so that building supplies can be brought in. You are to leave the lower streets for the alchemists to clear, as the mud hasn’t dried and I don’t want to hear of anyone getting stuck. If you come across any area that appears to be unsafe, call Colonel Wakes as she is leading the team of state alchemists.”

“Yes, Sir.” The three men said in unison.

Hawkeye looked at Ed with a faint smile. “I met the Seeking Alchemist this morning, and she wants to thank you personally for creating the soul detecting array.”

“Huh?” Ed asked.

“I don’t know if you have met her, but she entered the program a year ago after having discovered that paper you wrote about how souls release an energy field that can be detected with that array you developed. She has expanded on that work, and specializes in location alchemy.”

Ed furrowed his brow. He remembered writing that paper, but it wasn’t like it was anything revolutionary. He has simply proven that with a simple array, you could create a blue haze that enveloped anyone with a soul for a short period of time. He had come up with the idea after a very drawn out game of hide and seek with Elicia. 

“Oh. I didn’t think anyone would find it useful.” Ed said. “The array isn’t very powerful, and wouldn’t be of much use out in the field.”

“Well, say that to Seeking. She says she used it to find 27 survivors in the last few hours. She has been sent down river to see if she can find any more people in other damaged areas.”

Havoc beamed “Great work Boss! See, this is why you’re our favourite alchemist!”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” A deep voice said, and they all looked up to see the Flame Alchemist looking slightly miffed.

“Aww, don’t take it like that Mustang.” Breda said, taking a bite out of a slice of toast. “It’s not your fault that you’re not very useful in this situation.

Havoc nodded. “Yeah, maybe next time you’ll be lucky and get to lead a task force sent out to deal with a forest fire, Chief.”

Mustang looked even more annoyed, but he put that aside and turned to Ed.

“Good work Fullmetal. I am sure Seeking will want to meet you once this situation has stabilized. I was present at her exam, and she had some very creative uses for the array you had designed. She has come up with at least a dozen variations of it.”

Ed looked down as he felt his face heat up. “Thanks, I’ll make sure to talk to her.”

“Good. Now I have had several people request your presence at the dam site. We all know how good you are at manipulating stone, so Karl Kayborn has asked to consult you. He is the lead engineer on site, and he is having some difficulty getting the alchemists to agree on what the best procedure for fixing the dam would be.” Mustang turned to Havoc. “I need you to accompany him, and make sure that he stays out of trouble; however I need you both back here at 2pm for the Fuhrer’s arrival.”

“Yes, Sir.” Havoc said.

“Once you are done Lieutenant Colonel, I need you in the briefing room down the hall.”

Hawkeye nodded and Mustang strode away.

\---

It didn’t take long for Ed to become completely fed up with the crew that was meant to be fixing the dam. Kayborn was the only man with any sense, and yet he couldn’t wrangle the 7 state alchemists who had been sent to help him. One especially dense man suggested that they use the stone that was already naturally in the area. It took Havoc to hold him back from clobbering the man. Didn’t the man realize that he was standing on sandstone!? Fucking idiot would try to build a dam out of paper if he was given half a chance. 

It took some yelling, and a meeting with a geologist before they all agreed with Kayborn that it would be better to simply find some more of the slate that had been used to build the initial dam, and then make sure to reinforce the base before building it back up. The geologist suggested that the top half of the dam may have broken due to erosion of the sandstone layers in the surrounding valley, and so that they should definitely try to reinforce the side walls as much as they could. Ed then proceeded to go around and test every alchemist’s ability of transmuting perfect stone, and it was to no one’s surprise that the Stonework Alchemist was the most skilled out of the bunch. Even Ed couldn’t find any transmutation marks on his work. Ed then immediately suggested that Stonework lead an impromptu class on recreating perfect stone structures, so that the other alchemists would be able to reshape the new slate into a dam without leaving weak points in their work. There was no proof, but it was likely that the top half of the dam had crumbled due to an alchemist’s carelessness in eliminating the fractures caused by transmutation marks.

“You really showed’em Boss.” Havoc said.

“Well someone had to.” Ed grumbled. “That fucking moron with his sandstone idea. Who let him into the state alchemy program?”

Havoc shrugged. “I dunno, but I hope he never gets placed on another building site ever again.”

Ed nodded in agreement.

“Well I am glad you're on our team, If you hadn’t come back, who knows what alchemist we’d be saddled with.”

Ed flushed, what was it with him today? He kept changing colour like he was a fucking chameleon or something. “Maybe one who could actually fix shit.” Ed said.

Havoc stopped and stared at him. “For a smart guy, you really are stupid sometimes.”

Ed looked back at him.

“Seriously! Mustang could have gotten any alchemist on his team that he wanted, but he knows that you have twice the skill of anyone else, and unless your brother decides to enlist, there would never be a better option. For someone so confident, you have a serious lack of self-esteem. You’d never have said things like that when you were a kid.”

Ed looked down at the gravel path that led back to town. “It was easier to be a cocky lil’shit when I had nothing to prove.”

“There is nothing for you to prove Boss. Geez, you proved yourself ages ago, and now you should be basking in the glory of having been the only state alchemist to have punched a god in the face.”

“People keep saying shit like that.” Ed mumbled.

Havoc clapped his shoulder. “Cause it’s true. Now stop being stupid, and help me go grovel at Grumman’s feet. Maybe if I get a promotion, I’ll finally make enough money to be able to take Rebecca out on a date.”

Ed snorted “Unless you make Brigadier General, I doubt you’ll be able to afford her.”

Havoc picked up the pace. “All the more reason to try grovelling. The faster Mustang becomes Fuhrer, the faster I get promoted. Anyways if Grumman decides to pass the fuhrership to Hawkeye, then she can promote me to general if she thinks that my grovelling skills are good enough.”

“Haha, good luck with that. I’m doing everything possible to stay as a Major, because any promotions mean I have to do more work, and Mustang’s tryin to work me to death as it is.” Ed said, but while Havoc chattered on and on about where he would take Rebecca on their first date, Ed was thinking over their conversation. 

Havoc was right. At some point in the last 4 years he had lost the self-confidence that he had had as a kid. Obviously that had gotten him and Al into this whole mess in the first place, but in the end it had helped him beat the odds, and make sure that everyone made it out of the promised day alive. He thought over what Mustang had said last night. Mustang had said he was ‘irreplaceable’ a sentiment that Havoc seemed to share. Falman never tolerated idiots, and Fuery was always asking for him for help, so at least they thought he was worthwhile. Breda was always laughing at his stories, and Hawkeye hadn’t shot him so she must think that he was alright. Even Mustang’s secretaries treated him with respect despite the fact that he couldn’t transmute their typewriters into paperweights, despite his almost weekly threats to do just that. Maybe this was all in his own head.

Fuck he missed Al. It was hard to confide in someone over a crackling phone line that always cut out at the crucial moment, he hadn’t had anyone to really talk to since the whole thing with Winry. He really needed to get some friends. That thought immediately brought Russell Tringham to mind, and he instantly regretted that. Nope. He was not going to befriend him. Kid was a fucking asshole. They already spent too much time together as it was, what with Russell inviting him out to the pub every couple of weeks. Yeech. Well on second thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, Fletcher always joined them at the pub, and he reminded him of Al. 

Well if everyone seemed to agree that he was being overly critical of himself and his abilities, then maybe he was being overly critical of himself. Anyways that was a thought for a later date, right now he had to go see what Mustang wanted him to do about the Fuhrer.

\---

The day went about as expected. Fuhrer Grumman said something about the strength of the Amestrian people, and how he would personally ensure that this disaster was fixed properly. Mustang also gave a speech, but it was shorter, and promised to track down who was responsible for building such an unstable dam in the first place. Ed met with a few more people who were helping rebuild the dam, and after a late supper he was finally able to go back to his room. 

He was greeted by a warm gust of air, as the door opened to reveal a beautiful roaring fire. Ed wasn’t cold, but it had been another absolutely exhausting day, and the heat felt amazing on his tired joints. He headed straight for the fireplace as the door swung behind him. Mustang was on the settee surrounded by folders.

“This is fucking amazing.” Ed said as he stood with his back to the heat, letting the heat melt the tension in his shoulders.

“I am glad I could be of some service.” Mustang said without looking up.

Ed basked in the heat, simply looking around at the room with its chandelier and gold tassels on the curtains. It wasn’t fair. Why did he get to stay in such a wonderful hotel room, when there were families with little kids who had to stay in makeshift beds in the school’s gymnasium?

“What’s wrong?” Mustang asked, looking up from his papers from the first time.

“Nothing. I was just thinking about stupid it is that we get to stay here, and many people have to stay in tents or in the shelters. It’s not fair.”

“It isn’t.” Mustang agreed. “However, all the other hotels in town are full of residents, and everyone has somewhere warm and safe to stay, even if it is far from luxurious. This hotel would not have let just anyone stay here, and it's only as full as it is because I agreed to let the military pick up the tab. If we weren’t here, there would be one or two people per room, with no children allowed, so don’t think you are preventing a child from getting to sleep in a comfortable bed.”

Ed scowled. “The management here sucks.”

Mustang smiled at that and began flipping through his papers again. 

Ed glanced at his hands and noticed how dirty they were. He hadn’t even done anything and he was still covered with dirt! A bath would be nice. He reluctantly stepped away from the warmth of the fireplace, and headed towards the bathroom. He placed the plug, and spun the hot water knob to maximum. He removed the military jacket and the pants, before beginning to unbutton the shirt. It had taken him almost a year to regain enough dexterity to use buttons after regaining his right arm, but now he easily flicked them open, and the shirt soon joined the rest of the uniform in a pile on the floor. It was then that Ed noticed that there wasn’t nearly enough steam coming from the tap. Fuck. He tested the water. Urgh, it was barely tepid. Why did this stupid hotel have enough money for stupid marble countertops, but couldn’t afford a bigger water heater? Well the tub was half full, and he certainly wasn’t about to let his port get all swollen, so he really didn’t have an option.

“Hey, Mustang!” Ed called out before striding out into the room wearing only his boxers.

“Yes?” Mustang said as he looked up. He paused, quickly taking note of Ed’s state of undress, but his face betrayed nothing.

“The water heater here sucks, and I’ve been busting my ass for you ever since we got here, so could you heat up the water, so that Winry doesn’t have to cut off the rest of my leg?”

“Is your leg bothering you that much?” Mustang asked.

Ed shrugged. “No more than usual. But it’ll suck real bad tomorrow if I go to sleep without warming it up.”

“Alright, but how do you suggest I fix your problem? I can’t exactly set the water on fire.”

Ed rolled his eyes in exasperation. This was typical of Mustang. “Oh shut up! Just do what you did yesterday in the shower! I know there wasn’t any hot water left by the time I filled the tub.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Mustang said, “I like cold showers.”

Ed stopped and stared at him. “Who hurt you?” he asked incredulously.

“Is there something wrong with not liking hot showers?” He asked.

“Yeah. The part with cold water. At Pinako’s place Winry fixed the water heater so that it was basically boiling by the time it came out of the pipes. It’s really the only reason I ever visit.”

“I’m surprised you survived living in the dorms. It’s not easy to coax hot water out of those showers.” Mustang said.

“Oh that was easy, I came up with an array for heating up water. Look, I’ll draw it and you make it work.” Ed said as he snatched the pen Mustang was holding, and grabbed a slip of paper. “Here ya go.”

Mustang took the array and followed Ed into the bathroom. Without a word he activated the array, and the water began to steam.

“Ah.” Ed said as he tested the water. “Perfect!”

Mustang wrinkled his nose. “I beg to differ. This is much too warm.”

And this was the moment where his stupid ass brain decided to say something unbelievably stupid. “Remind me to never take a bath with you.” Ed grumbled before he had a chance to realize he was actually saying it out loud. Maybe he hadn’t said it loud enough for Mustang to hear?

The choked noise Mustang made indicated that he had indeed heard what Ed said, but Ed shoved him out the door before his stupid mouth could say anything else. 

Why was he always sabotaging himself?

Luckily for him, the water was hot enough to distract him from all his problems. It was practically orgasmic. The hot water was a few degrees shy of burning, so he had to lower himself into the tub slowly and let his body adjust, but as he became fully submerged he felt the stress of the day leave him. Today had been physically easier than yesterday, but it had still been exhausting. 

He pulled the elastic from his hair, and sunk down to let it float freely. Yesterday's quick wash hadn't gotten all of the dirt out of his hair, and he felt sand-like particles drop to the bottom where they inevitably found their way under his spine and made the bath slightly less enjoyable. Regardless, It was nice to have a minute to relax.

Unfortunately a minute is all he got before his mind drifted to the events of the morning. He had woken up with Mustang's arm around his chest, and his face pressed into Mustang's hair. Fuck the man smelled good. Ed sighed as he recalled the smell. Obviously he had never really expected to wake up in a bed with Mustang, but now that he had he could imagine that there were different circumstances that had led them there. What if Mustang had invited him over for drinks, and had flirted with him the way he had been for the past couple of months. Maybe after a few drinks in the living room, Ed'd say something that Mustang would call 'impertinent' and he'd grab his ponytail and call him a slut before stripping and shoving him on his knees In front of him.

Fuck that would be nice. Mustang could then make him mouth at his flies, and pull his hair until he begged to let him suck his cock. Ed brought his wrist up to his mouth to mime the motions he'd make while the General would pull his hair and call him a good boy. The General wouldn't let him touch himself until after he'd finish sucking him off, and even then he'd force him to sit at his feet and jack off while he watched fully dressed.

The thought of being bare and fully exposed infront of the dressed general was more than he could take without letting his hand drift southwards towards his own hardening cock. 

Oh that felt nice. Ed closed his eyes and let himself replay that well worn fantasy.

"Please let me cum, Sir." 

"And why should I?" Fantasy Mustang said.

The Edward on the floor looked panicked and so lost. He looked up at the General and tried to say something but found that he couldn't.

"Tell me why I should let you cum." The General said, and once again Ed was unable to answer.

At the continued silence, Mustang came closer and pulled him up to his feet and immediately threw him across his lap with his ass in the air, and his face near the floor.

"When I ask you a question," the General said, punctuating it with a hard slap to his behind. Ed cried out at the shock. "I expect you to answer."

The General spanked him again, and Ed bit his lip. "Sorry." He gasped.

The General spanked him harder and Ed sobbed as the impact pushed his cock hard into the General's thigh.

"Sorry, what?" He said.

_ Thwap _

“Sorry, Sir!” Ed choked out as yet another strong slap was delivered onto his already abused skin.

“Good boy.” The General murmured as his hand soothed the reddening skin. 

“Please, Sir, please, please please!” Ed found himself saying without realizing it.

“Please, what?” The General asked.

“Please hit me again, Sir.” Ed breathed.

The General smiled and angled his hips to better align with his thigh. “Do you think you can cum like this?” 

Ed gasped as he felt the General press his thigh up against his weeping cock, and he nodded profusely. “Yes, Sir. Please, Sir.”

“Well then.” The general said as he raised his hand and smacked him so loudly that the room echoed with it, and Ed was lost to the sensation.

He was ruining the General’s pants with both his tears and his precum, but he simply couldn’t stop the sobs that escaped his throat as the rough wool of the uniform trousers stimulated him more and more. Suddenly the fantasy General was wearing his stupidly hot ignition gloves, and the rough texture of them really stung. Between the sandpaper-like texture of the gloves, and the coarseness of the military uniform, Ed couldn’t help but cum hard. His fantasy self screamed in pleasure, but he managed to control himself enough to limit his reaction to a few splashes, and a silent gasp.

“Fuck.” Ed mouthed into the silent room as his heart beat slowed, and his breathing evened out. He stayed submerged for a few minutes. And that was when he realized his mistake.

Ed’s eyes widened in horror. Would he never not be a colossal fuck up?!

In absolute horror he slowly raised himself to a sitting position and looked down into the water. FUCK. Cum was swirling around in little chunks, and he raised his hand tentatively to his hair and cursed again. How could he be so stupid!? Fuck knew what would happen if some got stuck in his automail joints, but regardless Winry would be furious. Shit was it also in his hair!? He frantically grabbed his hair, and groaned. Of course. OF BLOODY COURSE. FUUUUCK.

Well he certainly wasn’t going to share a bed after essentially stewing in his own juices, so he simply had to rinse off. Ed winced as the warm water drained away, he certainly couldn’t ask Mustang to heat the water up again, but he was dreading the freezing cold water.

Taking a steadying breath and silently cursing the universe, Ed turned the knob and prepared himself to be doused in ice. For a split second Ed thought that nothing could be worse than having to take a cold splash bath after being nearly boiled alive in the most pleasant bath he had had in awhile, but he was wrong. Why was the universe always proving him wrong!?

Nothing was coming out of the tap. Ed looked frantically around the room, and spun the tap to be fully open. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

Ed could have cried. He had never wanted to feel icy cold water so much in his life, and yet when he needed it most, it was gone. He stared stupidly at the tap, and at the empty tub for a full minute before forcing himself to get up. There was nothing else in the room that would be of any use. There was a large mirror on the wall, but no sink, and certainly no convenient bucket full of precious water. He stared at himself in the mirror. He looked nothing like the colossal idiot he felt that he was, but still. Al always said that looks were deceiving. Ed looked around again and realized that his night had just gotten worse. He had neglected to bring his pyjamas or even his borrowed bathrobe in with him, and all he had was a single towel.

Well shit.

He reached for the towel, and began to work on the automail. He couldn’t see any gunk stuck in it, but semen was notorious for congealing once it dried, so he really had to make sure that there was none hiding in any of the delicate electronics of his leg. He pulled a sticky glob of it off of the shin panel, but couldn’t find any more, and so moved on to wiping down his flesh leg. He worked his way up, checking to see if he missed anything in the mirror, but so far he had been lucky. He finally wiped his face, and set his jaw. Now it was time to check his hair.

It didn’t take long for him to locate the first glob. Ed slowly took it out, making sure that none was left, before going on to check the rest of his hair. He didn’t find much, but his hair felt weird in places, and he was beginning to think that it was a lost cause. 

He turned back to the tub and tried the knobs again. Nothing. Of course, why had he expected anything else? There was nothing to do except pull his hair into a braid, and hope that he didn’t reek of cum. 

Ed wrapped the towel around his hips, and with a deep breath opened the door.

Mustang was still at the settee with all of his papers, but he had removed his jacket, and had his shirt sleeves rolled up, and most of the buttons undone. He actually looked better now, bent over a paper with his shirt open, and forearms on display, than he did in Ed’s earlier fantasy. Why was this day continually trying to ruin his life? Ed strode across the room to grab his pyjamas, pretending all the while that he didn’t feel Mustang’s gaze upon him, and stepped into the washroom. Maybe the water was just not running in the bathroom?

Nope. The tap in the washroom didn’t work, and neither did the shower. Fuck his life.

Well there was nothing to do except get dressed, and find a discreet location to discard the towel. 

Mustang looked up at him again when he reentered the room, and Ed felt his skin prickle. Did Mustang know? He couldn’t! He’d been so quiet! 

_ ‘Such a good boy.’  _ The General said in his head, and Ed did his best to repress a shudder at those words. 

“Are you alright?” Mustang asked.

Ed spun to face him. “Yes! Of course I’m fine!”

“I’m sorry, it’s just that you seem a bit...on edge.” Mustang said, looking concerned.

_ ‘Not anymore’ _ Ed’s stupid brain cackled, and Ed swore he would never masturbate. Never ever again.

“If this is about last night I--”

“It’s not.” Ed said. “It’s fine. I’m just tired.”

Mustang looked at him with concern, before loudly sighing, and almost deflating. “I suppose we all are.”

Ed raised an eyebrow. “So why ya still working?” 

Mustang ran his hands through his hair. “Because some of us don’t have a choice.”

Ed sighed, and walked over to him. He looked at the papers strewn around and abruptly shoved a few aside, and sat down. Clearly the papers weren’t that important because Mustang barely blinked in response.

“Come on, it's not like you can get any work done when you are this tired. Give your eyes a break! You’ll lose your sight again at this rate, and then Knox will really kill you.”

Mustang leaned back into the cushions. “I didn’t know you cared so much, Fullmetal.”

Ed glared at him. “Don’t be stupid. Of course I care! I still owe you 520 cenz, and I always pay back my loans.” 

Mustang smiled sadly. “I’m glad you care.”

Ed stared at him in confusion. What the hell was wrong with Mustang? Well He’d been so nice the night before so it wouldn’t hurt to pay back the favour, right?

“Hey, um...are you okay?” Ed asked.

Mustang glanced at him, before looking out the window and giving a dry laugh. “Of course I’m fine. I’m the very embodiment of the term ‘fine’.”

The temptation to say ‘Damn right you are’ was nearly overwhelming, but something about Mustang’s tone stopped Ed.

Ed watched him in silence, and waited.

Finally Mustang sighed and said “I suppose I am simply tired.”

“You seem more than ‘simply tired’.” Ed said.

Mustang looked away. “I suppose you are right. I guess I am just--Never mind. We should get some sleep.”

What he wouldn’t give to have Al’s ability to read people. Mustang wanted to say something, but he seemed to think it wasn’t important. Ed really didn’t know what to do.

“Come on.” He said, reaching for Mustang’s wrist and grabbing it. That caught Mustang’s attention, and he stared at his hand like it was an alien object. “Let's go to sleep, you can continue reading in the morning. You barely got any sleep last night because of me, so I’ve gotta fix that.”

“You really-” Mustang began.

“Shut up and come on.” Ed said as he hauled the other man to his feet. “I can’t sleep if you're up all night brooding.”

“I sincerely apologize if my brooding has ever interfered with your ability to sleep.”

“Can it,” Ed said. “Here. Put these on.” 

Mustang accepted the pile of folded pyjamas that Ed held out and immediately began to pull off his shirt. Ed flushed and turned around. Why couldn’t the man have any sense of decency?

Ed focused on the wall for a few moments before he realized that the rustling of clothes had stopped.

“Do I make you uncomfortable, Edward?” The deep voice asked with none of its usual sultriness. 

Ed spun around, and immediately regretted that decision. Mustang had put on the pyjama pants, but had yet to put on the shirt. Ed didn’t think he had ever seen him in any state of undress, so the surprise of being faced with a half dressed Mustang who had the magical ability to make standard issue pyjamas look really good, was stunning to say the least. It took Ed a moment to gather himself enough to answer the question...wait, what was the question?

“Huh?” He asked dumbly.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Mustang asked. He sounded worried. What the hell?

“No! Why would you think that?” Ed exclaimed.

Mustang looked away. “ I am not sure. It’s just that you always get tense whenever I am in the room. It’s been happening for a while, but I’ve begun to notice it more.”

Ed wanted to die. Here he finally has the opportunity to properly look at Mustang, but he has to focus on what Roy is saying because it sounds important.

“I know I come off as a flirt most of the time, and I would like to apologize if it has made you feel uncomfortable.”

What the hell was he on about? Was this a test? It sounded like a test. What was he really trying to say? Oh... No it couldn’t be that could it?

“No!” Ed said and waved his arms for emphasis. “No! Of course not! If this is about what you said on the train--well no. You don’t. I don’t think you could make me feel uncomfortable even if you tried.”

Mustang tilted his head like he was trying to solve a puzzle, but Ed didn’t have time for this. He stepped forward and grabbed the shirt that Mustang was still not wearing.

“Put this on and get in bed. I have shit to do tomorrow.”

Mustang looked at the shirt Ed was holding towards him, and took it, but not before he let his hand cover Ed’s for a moment in a way that was absolutely unmistakeable.

Well shit. This day just kept on getting stupider.

Ed didn’t move, and let the hand cover his, without letting his gaze falter. It was really hard to not look at the floor, but Mustang was trying to say something that Ed desperately wanted to hear.

Well why wasn’t he saying it? Was this about the whole ‘fraternization laws?’ Because those were stupid and everyone knew that. 

He was really way too tired for this shit.

He grabbed Roy’s hand. “Come on.” he dropped the shirt on the floor and pulled him towards the bed. Without letting go he crawled on to the bed and hauled Roy in after him. When he did finally let go, it was with great reluctance, but it was hard to pull the covers up with only one hand.

Ed flipped the lights off, and they were now only lit by the quietly burning fire. Roy was leaning on one elbow looking at him like he had done something unexpected, but his gaze shifted and his hand reached out. 

“Here,” Roy said, his voice uneven. “You have something in your hair.” 

Ed’s hand shot up to stop Roy, but he was too slow. There was a gentle tug on his hair and Roy was looking at the stray glob he had just pulled out of fuck knows where.

“Wh--Oh.” Roy said, and Ed wanted to die.

“I-The water’s broken and I--” Ed’s voice died as the embarrassment overtook him. 

Roy remained silent, looking at Ed who was desperately trying to die on the spot. Ed glanced at him. Roy didn’t look disgusted, and he didn’t look like he was going to call in a sanitation unit to spray Ed down, instead he looked...faintly amused, but before Ed could say anything else, Roy reached out for him and let his hand brush Ed’s cheek.

Ed’s eyes shot open and his own hand was suddenly holding Roy’s. Roy was in bed propped up to look at him, without a shirt and with a half dried flakes of Ed’s cum on the hand that was currently caressing his ear. The firelight flickered. Ed was pretty sure he had had this dream before (but that dream had definitively not included the gunk problem).

“Here.” Roy said as he sat up and moved closer. Ed barely repressed his flinch.

Roy reached around Ed’s neck and pulled the half dried braid of hair over Ed’s shoulder. He gently removed the ponytail, and loosely undid the braid. 

“May I?” He asked Ed.

Ed nodded despite not having a clue what Roy was thinking of doing. 

Roy paused, took a deep breath, and clapped his hands together. A soft blue light appeared as the alchemical power grew, before Roy reached out and touched Ed’s hair. The light got brighter, and Ed couldn’t see what was happening, but there was not smell of burning hair the Bastard hadn’t set his hair on fire. The lights faded, and Roy slowly drew back.

“What the hell?” Ed asked.

“I transmuted your-” Roy looked away and waved a hand. “Secretions into their base components and fully dehydrated them, so tomorrow you won’t have knots in your hair.”

“What?” Ed asked stupidly.

Roy rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. “I turned your ejaculate into water and dust.”

If Ed had been embarrassed before, that had nothing on how he felt now. 

Roy gave him a half smile. “I grew up in a brothel. Hardly a day went by without one of my sisters complaining about how a man had ruined something of theirs. One time a man who had been stalking one of my sisters, snuck into her room and-” Roy paused, “How do I say this politely?” He cast his eyes around the room. “Well he ‘ruined’ her favourite dress while hiding in her closet doing some indecent act. I overheard her tell the Madame how she couldn’t get the stain out of the fabric, so I went to my room and decided to do something useful with my alchemy. I was around 10 years old, so it took me a few days, but I eventually got the array right, and I fixed her dress.”

Ed’s mortification faded a bit as he listened to Roy explain himself.

“Of course,” Roy continued. “This array became very useful for personal purposes a few years later, but at the time I had created it for purely innocent reasons.”

Ed gave him a weak smile. “You were ten...so how’d you test the array to see if it worked?”

Roy laughed. “I lived in a brothel. It wasn’t hard to sneak into one of the rooms before the cleaner arrived and steal some used handkerchief from the garbage bin.” At Ed’s disgusted face he added, “Don’t worry, I used a pair of tongs I stole from the kitchen. I was just as disgusted as you are, but I really wanted to fix the dress.”

“I just hope you never returned the tongs.” Ed grimaced.

Roy laughed. “No, I think I transmuted them into a pencil case.”

Ed smiled and sheepishly outstretched his hand. “Can you give me my elastic?” 

Roy looked around for a second before locating the elastic in the sheets that were pooled around his hips, and passed it to Ed who slipped his hair into a low ponytail. He looked up at Roy through his bangs and muttered a quiet “Thanks.”

“Do not feel embarrassed Edward. Everyone has these moments.” Roy said, trying to sooth him.

Ed scoffed.

“I am serious.” Roy said. “At least you only have one witness to your situation, sometimes there are dozens.”

“Yeah.” Ed answered, unconvinced.

“Yes.” Roy said “Sometimes you are a teenager who is desperately in love with your classmate, who you then proceed to ask out on a date in front of the whole cafeteria, but instead of just asking like a normal person, you decide to go down on one knee and hold out a ticket to the dance only to fall flat on your face and and break your nose.”

Ed winced. “Ouch. Did they atleast accept?”

Roy laughed ruefully “No. It took me years to get my head out of my own ass and realize that not only were they way out of my league, but that no one really likes being put on the spot like that, no matter how romantic it always appears in theatre.”

“What do you mean they were out of your league?” Ed asked. “I didn’t think that that was possible.”

Roy looked at him with that unreadable expression again. “I was an extremely awkward looking 14 year old.” He was quiet for a minute. “I appreciate the compliment, no matter how indirect, but I would like to disagree with you.”

Ed looked at him questioningly.

“There are many people who are, and have always been out of my league.” Roy said.

Ed looked at Roy with a slightly annoyed look. “Yeah right.”

Roy sat up straighter and tilted his head forward a few degrees. It took all of Ed’s self control to not stare at the bare chest in front of him.

“I am serious.” Roy said in a low voice. His eyes burning holes into Ed’s own.

There was an odd shift in the room. Nothing had physically changed, but the silence had a new feel to it. Ed wasn’t sure he liked it. The firelight still filled the room with a low glow, and the distant sound of feet, as the people in nearby rooms settled in for the night, could still be heard but something had changed.

“Yeah?” Ed’s voice cracked. “Name some.”

Roy was still looking at him, and Ed was beginning to feel like hiding from that intense stare.

“Brigadier General Armstrong.” Roy said with a slight tilt to his lips.

A startled laugh burst out of Ed. “Yep.” He agreed.

“The Lieutenant Colonel.” Roy continued.

“She’s always been too good for you.” Ed stated.

“And you, Edward.” Roy said.

Ed froze. He tried to open his mouth, but he really, really couldn’t. Instead he stared up at Roy, who’s knees were basically brushing his own, and did his best imitation of a gaping fish. Roy didn’t seem to notice that Ed had been replaced by a human sized salmon, and he kept on looking at him like he expected to be slapped, or shoved away.

“I--” Ed tried. He swallowed. “I’m not. I’m really, really not.”

Ed watched in shock as Roy’s hand, which had been buried in the sheets, rose up and hesitantly came to hover near Ed’s jaw, as if he was asking for permission to touch. Without realizing it, Ed’s own hand had come up and pressed Roy’s against his face. He saw Roy’s eyes widen, and heard a sharp exhale. 

Roy visibly swallowed, and moved an inch closer. Now their knees were really touching, and Ed watched in amazement and his own free hand came to rest on Roy’s pyjama clad thigh. 

“I know that this is most inappropriate,” Roy asked, his voice low and on the edge of breaking. “but can I kiss you?”

Ed wanted to answer, he really did, but his body wouldn’t cooperate; so he did the next best thing, which was to launch himself into Roy’s lap, and press his lips to the ones he had spent the better part of a decade dreaming about. It was wet and messy, but it wasn’t like Ed had all that much practice, and Roy seemed to be too surprised to react with any coordination, but as Ed wrapped his legs around Roy’s waist, he felt hands come up and cradle his head and gently slow the kisses that had been growing increasingly sloppy. Roy kissed the same way he spoke, with precision, command and the underlying sense of amusement. Ed was beginning to regain some mental clarity when he felt hands drifting down from his head to rest on his ass before suddenly finding himself maneuvered down onto his back. He stared up, his eyes barely managing to focus on the man who had just pulled away. Roy was now straddling his hips as he leaned down to caress Ed’s cheek, and lay kisses down the nape of his neck before pausing and murmuring “You are absolutely gorgeous like this.” into Ed’s ear. It was then that Ed’s lungs gave out, and he found himself nearly choking on a sharp intake of breath. Roy lay a kiss just below his ear, and Ed heard himself make a noise that sounded rather like a sob. Well it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t handle it, he’d had too many years worth of dreams that he was currently experiencing all at once. If Mustang had done this sooner, then maybe he could take it with a little more dignity, as it was he really didn’t care if he swooned like one of those ridiculous heroines in Al’s books because even if he did, he’d wake up to Roy’s stupidly gorgeous face. Ed wrapped his arms around Roy’s bare torso and pulled him closer, until he was practically laying on top of him and Ed could no longer tell which limbs were his and which of them were Roy’s.

“Fuck.” Ed exhaled when they finally parted for air.

Roy looked at him, and began to laugh.

“What?” Ed said.

“I just can’t believe that you actually agreed to not swear for our bet. Clearly it didn’t work out, but I am still having difficulty believing that you actually took on the wager.” Roy grinned.

“Urgh.” Ed sniffed. “Will you never stop wallowing in your success.”

“Never.” Roy smirked. “I plan on having it engraved on my tombstone. ‘ _ Here lies the man whose greatest success was not the Fuhrership nor founding Amestrian democracy, but rather his successful inveiglement of the Fullmetal Alchemist into a wager that the alchemist in question had not a chance in hell of winning. _ ’”

“Oh fuck off.” Ed said with no venom while Roy hugged him closer. 

“When this is all over,” Roy said into Ed’s ear. “And we finally make it back to Central, would you go out to dinner with me?”

“Mmphff.” Ed said. “Maybe if I have time between my typing lessons. I’ve always avoided those finger traps because automail and tiny delicate typewriter buttons don’t exactly mix, but I guess I don’t have that excuse anymore.”

“Ah, yes. I certainly wouldn’t want to interfere with your typing lessons.” Roy said as he rolled off of Ed and settled in at his side. “I suppose that you’ll have to buy a machine to practice on.”

Ed snorted. “Not a chance. I’m using your fancy one. I saw it in your library when we moved your stuff into your new house, and I refuse to spend any of my hard earned money on a pile of shit.”

“So will you be stealing it from under my nose, or will I have the pleasure of hosting you in my home?”

“I ain’t lugging that lead brick up the stairs to my place, so I’ll have to settle for your place. You’d better get some ear plugs, cause I will not be enjoying the experience.” Ed said.

“Mi casa, es tu casa.” Roy said.

“I didn’t know you spoke Arugian.” Ed said.

“I don’t. I just happen to know enough phrases to occasionally pepper into conversations for a bit of what Elica would call ‘pizzazz’.”

Ed smiled, but he felt the silence tense as Roy thought loudly enough to wake up anyone in the near vicinity.

“What?” Ed asked, turning his head to look at Roy.

Roy hesitated, “It’s just that--Well I suppose that I would like to elucidate my intentions.”

“Uh howabout you try using real words.” Ed said.

“I sincerely apologize, my dear Edward.” Roy said. “I promise to henceforth attenuate my prodigious vocabulary to better conform to the vernacular.”

Ed kicked him.

Roy sent him an exaggeratedly pained look before looking painfully serious.

“I am trying to say that I really like you Ed, and I would like to say that I do not wish for this to be something temporary. I know we both work well together, and I am, to be quite frank, too old to be getting involved in short term dalliances. I do not expect you to make any commitments of which you are not yet certain, but I would ask that you understand that I am not just looking for someone to warm my bed. If that is what you want, then I ask that you be clear about that.”

Ed held his breath until Roy had finished. “No! No. I-uh think the same thing. I don’t just want a fling or some shit. I’ll stay with you until you get tired of me, and decide you don’t wanna be pulling hairs outta the drains.”

“Not likely.” Roy said, as he wrapped an arm around Ed. “Not likely at all.”


End file.
